[ iii. beyond the wall ]

august 3rd, 2033

➸➸➸

AFTER MORE THAN A decade locked inside, going beyond the wall is liberating.

Though Lena Ramsey now only stands less than twenty yards from the massive stone fortress that is the defensive border of the quarantine zone, she discovers that when standing on this side of the wall—the outside—that the air already feels fresher. The warm rain that ever so relentlessly pounds on her flushed skin now feels cool, despite the humid, summer heat that lingers in the evening hours, and the brisk wind that brushes through her soppy curls encircles her like a sigh of relief.

Several times over Lena has imagined what the world was like beyond the wall. Though she hears stories of fear and devastation frequently within the zone, of narratives where there is no hope, she knows that life still exists. No matter what cataclysmic event dooms the human race, life always finds a way.

This promise has always enticed her, even amidst the chaos of those early outbreak years. Even if the Infected run rampant and kill all in their path, there are those who still choose to live freely within the cities and towns that were forgotten by governments. Lena knows that she is not the only survivor that walks this now abandoned part of the earth. She cannot be. She does not want to be.

Twenty years later and that fascination of the world's hidden existence still lingers in her mind, fighting against the festered terrors that threaten to keep her trapped in one place forever, never dying . . . yet never truly living, either.

But buried deep beneath that elation and adrenaline that courses through Lena's excited veins, she can feel the deep-rooted fear curling its way back into her uneasy stomach, twisting knots around her organs and clenching her throat shut. As quickly as the wonderment of life beyond the wall encompasses her, it is gone in the very next breath. The smugglers and the smuggled are outside of the quarantine zone—they are free—but they could not possibly be in any worser danger than they are in that very moment.

Joel Miller is the first to comment on this hazardous exposure. "This rain ain't goin' to do us any good."

"It'll mask the noise," Lena supplies with a small shrug. She curls her hands around the straps of her backpack and steps off the rubble ledge, and down into an awaiting mud puddle. "It'll make it harder for them to see us."

"That works both ways," He counters.

Lena pulls her hood over her head. "Then it's a good thing you know your way around."

Joel huffs bitterly at Lena's remark, but otherwise chooses to hold his tongue. Lena only assumes that he does not bite back because he is confident in his movements; that he knows how to get them closer to the darkened part of the city. The infected part.

Fuck. The only place that Lena has always strived to avoid, no matter how vastly her curiosity reigns, is now the place that she must go.

Anxiety clutches tighter around her pounding heart. At least the rain hides that noise, too.

Quickly, the four of them begin to walk. Again, Joel leads, and Tess covers. Despite how fast they move mud still pulls at the bottoms of Lena's boots, leaving marks in the earth no matter how hard to tries to mask them. If she had more time, she would do better to cover her tracks, but there is no use with an excited fourteen-year-old stomping right alongside her. "Holy shit," Ellie murmurs. "I'm actually outside!"

Both a frown and a smile battle for claim of Lena's expression as she stares down at her niece through the shadow of her jacket's hood. Fourteen years of age and all that Ellie has ever known is life in entrapment. She knows nothing of a life beyond the quarantine zone. It is both exciting and devastating to see the world as it is through her young eyes.

"Up this way," Joel says. He leads them towards a partially submerged semi-truck. While the wheels and the front end of the massive vehicle are lost to the layers of mud, the back end of the semi's compartment is thrust open wide, revealing an empty chamber that had likely once held abundant amounts of supplies for the zone. At the opposite side of the compartment there is a narrow gap, just wide enough for a person to slip through, that opens back up into the storm.

The rain clangs loudly overhead, masking their movements in the clanky, metallic box. More than once Ellie nearly slips, her sneakers doing nothing to help her gain traction, and Lena ends up holding on tight to the girl's arm until they make it up the slight incline to the other side unscathed. By the time they reach the exit, Joel is already halfway out of the narrow gap, his dark, short hair clinging to his face as he peers through a thick trickle of water that pours down from them overhead.

"See anyth—" Lena begins to ask, but before she can even finish her sentence, Joel is abruptly being ripped from the entryway and knocked to the muddy earth with a harsh hit to the side of his head.

In the next instant, Lena's sight of a fallen Joel is cut off as an officer from the quarantine zone steps in her way, partially blinding her through the harshness of a beaming white flashlight.

"Hands up!" The officer commands, chilling Lena's blood in her veins. The voice that barks at her is female, but the body is burly, suggesting years of weight training, and Lena knows that even if she attempts to strike in a moment of desperation that she would lose this fight. If not from the strength of this woman's fist, then surely from the bullets of the rifle she points squarely into her soaked chest. "Don't do anything stupid."

Slowly, under the threat of gunpoint, Lena loosens her hold on Ellie's arm and raises her hands above her head in surrender. The female officer then orders her to move and as she steps out from beyond the semi compartment's narrow gap, she notices another officer—this one undeniably a man—dragging Joel onto his knees.

"All of you, turn around. On your knees." Lena has no choice but to comply. Her fingers are trembling as she lowers herself into the mud beside Joel, shifting her body so that her back is to the officers.

Tess drops down to her right with a loud humph, angry hands raised subtly in mock compliance, and from the corner of her left eye, Lena watches as Ellie is then forced down to her knees on Joel's opposing side with a small yelp from the male officer's harsh push.

"Don't touch her!" She growls.

"Quiet!" The man shouts back.

Lena's lip curls back into a snarl as the officer swings his rifle towards her, but she never turns her head, never dares to lock eyes with the stranger that is guaranteed to kill her.

From years of violence Lena already knows that if she were to ever be forced into a situation of weakness and unfairness thar she will never give a killer the satisfaction of watching the light fade from her eyes. No, she would want her killers to live with the guilt of knowing they had killed an unarmed woman without a fight and had not even tried to give her the fairness nor respect that she deserved as a simple human being.

"You scan em'," The female officer orders to her partner. "I'll call it in."

"Alright." The other officer turns back to the four civilians lined up in the mud. Lena can feel his eyes scan over the back of her head as he shifts to stand behind Tess.

"Look the other way," The female smuggler bargains quietly, just lowly enough so that the reporting officer behind them will not hear. "We can make this worth your while."

"Shut up. Put your hands on your head."

For a split moment, before Lena's fingers knot into the curls of her hair, she finds that she does not even know what to feel in that very moment. Thousands of emotions seem to be barreling through her soaked body at once; anger, fear, confusion, dread; each flicker of rage and unpredictability stronger within her system that the last. Though her hands still shake, the rest of her body is surprisingly still. Her chest does not heave, her legs do not quiver, and her head does not bow.

That is, until she feels the familiar Cordyceps detecting device pressed to the side of her head, just below her left ear. This type of inspection is routine in the quarantine zone which is why all officers carry these devices. With a single click of a button, Lena's fair skin is scanned for any sign of infection. She feels no pain during the short process; just a sharp prickling of warmth against the coolness of her neck, as if she had held onto a burning match for a split second too long. Then the scan is over. Already, she knows that she passes with flying colors, and that certainty is solidified with the officer's faint hum of confirmation over her shoulder. Lena is not infected.

But there is one person in their lineup who is not so lucky.

A harsh gasp of breath slips from Lena's lungs a moment too late.

No one can know. No one can know. No one can fucking know!

With widened and startled eyes, Lena's head whips in her niece's direction just as the officer moves away from Joel and over to the tiniest member of the group. Joel must sense the shift in tension as he looks up from the mud and over to Lena, but his expression is unreadable. All he sees is the woman's hands dropping from her head as she reaches blindly for the hunting knife attached to her hip.

"Len—" Joel warns.

"Sorry!"

Yet the sharp apology comes from neither Lena nor Joel. Instead, in a blind act of her own faith, Ellie Williams has turned on her knees and drives her blade into the exposed thigh of the officer behind her. The man screams in pain as he jolts back in surprise and Ellie is pouncing after him, trying to yank the rifle out of his hands before he can use it back on her. The man is quicker, though, and taller, too. Before Ellie can even gain her balance in the slippery mud, the officer is bashing the butt of the rifle across the side of the young girl's face, sending her toppling back to the ground.

"No!" Lena cries.

She and Joel both move at the same time but where he goes after the officer, Lena's concern is for her niece. Scrambling on her hands and knees in the mud, Lena only has eyes for Ellie as she slides across the small space between them and hurriedly pulls the tiny girl into her own shaking arms, trapping her against her chest. They are both huddled in the shadows of the night, covered in soggy earth, and drenched in rain, but neither turn their heads at the sounds of painful scuffling behind them. All Lena does is brace herself; waiting for the bullets that may rain down on her exposed back.

Four gunshots echo in the darkness, but Lena never feels the harshness of a bullet tearing through her skin. Never does she feel the splintering of bone within her torso or the slickness of blood pooling from her body. She is not shot. She is not hurt. Within her hold, Ellie remains entirely unscathed as well.

Carefully, Lena dares a glimpse over her shoulder. In the bright flicker of lightning overhead, she sees clearly as Tess now stands tall over one of the fallen officers and Joel is crouched over the other, shoving the man's body coldly into the mud. Both bodies have been inflicted with fresh bullet wounds to the head.

Ellie peers around her and blanches at the sight. "Oh, fuck."

Lena forces Ellie to look away in the moments that follow and brushes a sopping piece of auburn hair from her forest-green eyes. Already she can see a faint welt forming beneath the girl's right cheek from where the man hit her. "Are you alright?" She demands.

"Y-Yeah. B-Better than t-them at least," Ellie confirms. Shaken, she takes a deep breath to console herself. "I thought we were j-just going to hold them up or something. I d-didn't think—"

"This wasn't your fault," Lena interrupts, sensing where Ellie's guilt is taking her. "Everything is going to be alright, okay? Don't—"

"Oh, shit."

Somewhere behind her, Tess gasps. Then she swears again. Lena immediately turns back around at the blunt coldness in the woman's voice, half-expecting to find her injured in the prior scuffle. Instead, what she sees is much worse. Still standing above one of the bodies, Tess now holds the Cordyceps scanner and even from this distance Lena recognizes the information being displayed on the small green screen.

Lena's stomach drops as the realization of what the device seemingly suggests to the outsider. "No. No, Tess. Wait—" She tries desperately.

"Joel. Look." Tess ignores Lena entirely as she tosses the scanner to Joel and the same flicker of disbelief crosses the man's features as he rises back to his feet. Unlike Tess, though, there is no confusion to his reaction. No hesitation. There is only rage.

"Jesus Christ," Joel hisses. "Marlene set us up? Why the hell are we smugglin' an infected girl?"

Both Joel and Tess snap their heads downwards to Lena and Ellie who have yet to move from their crouched positions in the mud. Their eyes are dark in the night, black pits of fury and disgust. Of the cornered pair, the smugglers' attentions go to the older woman first, looking at her as if she truly were a bigger part of this false intention all along. Lena looks back at them just as uneasily, feeling her heart shoot up into her throat. Already she can practically feel Joel's fingers clenching around her windpipe, squeezing the life out of her. He wants to kill her right now.

"I know what you're thinking, but it's not a set up," She blurts.

Ellie nods her head fiercely in agreement. "I'm not infected!" She promises.

"No?" Joel sneers in disbelief. With the scanner's urging, they have no reason not to put bullets between both of their eyes. "So was this lyin'?"

He thrusts the small device at them, and it clatters in the mud at Lena's feet. She barely gives the flashing screen a second glance as she continues to peer up to the two smugglers. They stand tall above her, their shadows pushing her further into the darkness.

"I can explain—"

"You better explain fast."

"Ellie, show them the bite," Lena orders sharply. At the mention of an open wound, of the confirmation that the young girl truly has been bitten by an Infected, Joel's glare deepens. Beside him, Tess callously lifts her gun, not downright pointing at them, but ensuring that if the bite is exactly as she expects it to be then she will not hesitate to pull the trigger. "Show them the bite and let them see what we mean."

Lena's heart is racing as she helps Ellie pull up the soaking wet sleeve of her shirt to reveal the bite mark. "Look at this."

Beneath the crackling midnight sky, four pairs of eyes fall upon a deep gash of scarred skin that covers the inside of Ellie's pale forearm. While still reddened in places due to the relative freshness of the accident, the large mark is mostly pink and puffy with age, declaring it a scar rather than a present wound. It is a gruesome and ugly injury. Boils and cysts alike remain bumpy on the irritated stretch of skin—Lena had felt them herself only two days prior—but they do not burst. They are healed. Beneath these risen and once-inflamed marks are the indents left by rotten and infected teeth. That broken skin, too, has healed.

"I don't care how you got infected," Joel spits in disgust.

"That's not the point!" Ellie claims. "This is three weeks old!"

Tess shakes her head in denial. "No. Everyone turns within two days!" She bites back.

"They do," Lena agrees with as much calmness as she can muster. "If they're infected."

"Were you with her when it happened?"

"I wasn't. But Marlene brought her to me after. She showed me the bite, and I was unconvinced, too. I stayed up an entire night just so that I could see for myself if there were any changes in her behavior. Then another day passed and nothing. Now, here I am on day three and she is no different than the day I met her. Just look at the bite. Does it not look old to you?"

Joel scoffs, still entirely unconvinced. "A bite is a bite."

"Joel, you've been with us for hours!" Lena reminds him. The fear coursing in her body is swiftly turning to anger, but she knows she cannot lose her head with these strangers. They had more reason than not to be hesitant—to be afraid. But they do not have time to argue about this right now. "We have all seen how quickly the infection spreads," She implores wretchedly. "I swear . . . I swear on my entire life that she will not turn. She's immune."

"Ain't no one that's immune."

By now, just like her aunt, Ellie is fuming. "We're telling the truth!" She screams.

Joel shakes his head and swipes a strong hand outward, brushing the pleading voices of Lena and Ellie away into the shadows. "I ain't buyin' it . . ." He abruptly turns away from the cornered pair and looks out toward where they have just come from. His shoulders are heaving with vexation, with terror. Lena merely watches him, watches each expression of wrathful emotion tear through his body as he struggles to process this information. Then, suddenly, all tense movement within the man halts as his dark hazel eyes seemingly lock on something that the others cannot see. "Oh, shit."

At the sharp change in Joel's menacing tone, Lena hesitantly stands up in confusion to investigate. Tess joins her and through the sheet of rain that still pours fiercely, off in the distance, she can see the faint flicker of approaching headlights. It only takes a second longer for Lena to make the dire connection; this is the patrol car that one of the officers had called in. One of the now dead officers. It would only be moments before the vehicle was on them; they were probably already locked in its sight.

Just like that, the four of them were about to be caught all over again.

"Tess, run," Joel commands beneath his breath. Lena does not miss that he never once looks in either her or Ellie's direction. She does not miss that he does not tell either of them to run. To him, he does not care if they are caught. They are not the people that he cares about.

To Joel, Lena and Ellie are as good as dead.

But Lena cannot react upon disheartening revelation that now. Not with death so steadily approaching. "Ellie, come on," She hisses hurriedly, turning back to her niece who is still knelt in the mud. "On your feet."

"RUN!"

"Let's go!" Tess pulls on Ellie's other arm, helping Lena drag her up. "Move!"

Headlights burn into Lena's back as she, Ellie, and Tess follow Joel into the shadows of the night, quickly attempting to evade the approaching patrol. Around them, in the darkness, Lena feels her body jerk and slide in the mud as she runs. The ground is wet and dangerously unstable, threatening to give out beneath her feet. Beyond the sludge and sleet that threatens to drag her down, the dark area is littered with abandoned shipment containers that could be perfect for hiding but Joel is not running towards shelter. He is running towards a cliff.

Headfirst into the unknown, Lena does not dare to question his motives as she runs after him. Even if they do not trust each other, even if Joel would abandon her, the man is all that she and Ellie have to ensure they survive the night.

And they must survive the night, no matter the cost. With that in mind, Lena Ramsey knows that she will follow Joel Miller to the edge of the earth. Granted, she never thought that would come quite so soon.

She never even thinks to grab one of the officer's rifles before she plunges over the cliff and down into the muddy rainwater below.

➸➸➸

SHE HITS THE GROUND hard.

Not hard enough to knock the breath from her lungs but enough to startle her already rattled system further as she pulls herself, on her hands and knees, through the sludgy water towards an abandoned shipment container. When Lena gets back to her feet, she sees that there is a small break in one of the compartment's rusted side panels that is just big enough to climb through, and she is more than surprised when Joel ensures that all three of the women have made it through the narrow gap before following them.

It is only seconds after Joel has pushed a small crate in front of the opening that Lena faintly hears from somewhere back beyond the cliff, the harsh voice of an officer scream, "I got two dead uniforms! I repeat, I got two casualties in Sector Twelve! Requesting immediate backup!"

At least five other official voices respond to the demand.

Five voices. Five guns. Five threats.

"We need to keep movin'," Joel mutters.

The four of them quickly abandon the compartment's shelter knowing that they cannot stay in a place that is still so close to a watchful patrol. Back out in the open, Lena slicks her soaked hood back and crouches behind a cement block. She recognizes it as part of the massive stone wall behind her; likely a casualty from the early days when the Fireflies had been much stronger and more organized in their attacks. Since then, the borders of Boston had been fortified dozens of times over in preparation for another attack from the rebel group, but nothing as extreme as blowing out a chunk of the wall has been attempted in years.

"Over there." Lena dares a peek over the block, searching for their next escape route, and in the distance she can see the entrance to the quarantine zone. Typically, that gate never opens. Now, though, its wide steel doors are swinging outwards as three more military vehicles speed out into the darkness of the desolated land beyond the wall. Backup.

Once the armored trucks are out of reach from the quarantine's lights, Lena can no longer see them in the shadows of the dark. She can only hear them. Somehow, that makes their presence even more terrifying. "Alright," Tess exhales a timid breath, her rough voice barely heard to Lena over the persistent thunder. "When I give the signal, we run. Understand?"

Ellie nods her head feverishly. "Signal. Run. Got it."

"We're right behind you," Lena assures.

"You better be."

In anticipation Lena's fingers curl against the side of the cement block as she prepares to push herself off. Behind her, Joel shifts carefully, also ready to run. She can practically feel the heat of his chest against her back.

"Now!" Tess commands. She never looks back to see that Lena or the others follow, but they do. To stay behind is suicide. Once more Lena's boots are submerged in water as she wades through deep puddles, keeping low to avoid any quarantine zone officers that may linger behind them. "We've got another drop off," Tess notifies, already skidding down a deep, muddy ravine by the time her information reaches Lena's ears. Again, at the face of a cliff, Lena does not hesitate to launch her body over the edge, trusting the earth to soften her fall. By now all her articles of clothing are beyond salvageable from the storm. Up to her elbows are covered thickly with mud and her wet woolen socks cling uncomfortably to her ankles. "Stay away from those lights."

To her left, somewhere on the opposite side of the ravine that she has just plunged into, Lena hears the familiar roaring engine of a vehicle. Thankfully, the shadows from the depths below do miracles to conceal the four illegal escapees. One-by-one, Lena and the others scramble across another piece of stone rubble only to then duck beneath a low hanging pipe, which also was once a former attachment of the quarantine wall. So much of the debris that litters this boggy wasteland was once part of the quarantine zone. The rest of the rubble is remains from the Outbreak Day bombings.

They are navigating a maze of ghosts; of a past civilization lost to fire and ruin.

"It's going to be another sprint," Tess informs, once they have reached the shelter of another shipment container.

"Which direction?" Lena questions wearily. Above them, she can hear the fain echo of stern voices on the wind. The officers are catching up.

Tess leads them to the opposite end of the compartment and points out into the rain. Across the way—stretching ten yards at least—is another shipment container. Lena swallows grimly at the distance though that is not what truly bothers her. Rather it is the fact that there is no cover from this location to the next. Once they choose to move beyond this hideout, for several precious seconds, they will be out in the open. A few seconds is all that it takes for a bullet to reach its target.

"You ready?" Tess asks her.

"Do we have a choice?"

"No. Let's move."

"Come on, Ellie."

Lena runs when Tess does. Though she tries not to look up, Lena catches the faint glimmer of a swinging flashlight, but it never seems to land on her sprinting figure. She does not know how it is possible that she makes it through to the other side unnoticed—given how loudly her footsteps are as she splashes her way through another deep puddle of water—but she does. They all do and soon they are moving into a ruptured drainpipe. For a few measly seconds, Lena catches her breath and finds shelter from the rain, but it does not last long before they are back out in the airy and wet night.

Thankfully, Lena is beginning to notice that even as it appears the four of them are running blindly through the darkness beyond the wall with no true destination in sight, buildings are actually beginning to rise up around them. Even if these brick structures are only partially standing now, it is better than the open wasteland behind them. With the absence of abundant shipment containers and abandoned semis, they are getting further from the quarantine zone's outer ring. Lena can only hope that they are also getting closer to the officers' safety boundary; even the uniformed men and women will have to stop, for the sake of their own protection, once they get too close to the infected city.

But, perhaps, she thinks too soon. Because just as they are rounding the edge of a collapsed structure—that only has one wall left standing for the group to hide themselves behind—two figures dressed in all black appear on the rooftop of a nearby building.

"Watch it . . ." Tess whispers, raising a hand in caution.

"I see 'em," Joel grumbles. "Goddammit. They're everywhere."

Just then, one officer shouts, "Check the trenches!"

Lena figures that the very space she stands in is considered a trench. It certainly looks like it is, given the state of decay around her. Fallen buildings have collapsed into the mud in such a way that there truly seems to be only one promised and secure path through the chaos. It is only a given that all these buildings' rooftops would then be occupied by officers. Instinctively, at the sound of more voices, Lena crouches that much lower behind the wall that obscures her from view.

But they cannot stay there. It is only a matter of time before one of the officers gains enough courage to jump down into the trench to search in more depth. "Keep behind me," Joel instructs. "Stay low. Don't let 'em see you."

Joel waits until the nearest building's patrolmen have turned their back and gone to search the opposing side of the rooftop to begin moving through the makeshift trench. Ellie is right on the man's heels and Lena follows in her smaller footsteps, doing her best to make her own form as miniscule and quiet as possible. Overhead, Lena can hear the conversations of the officers speaking to one another, and her heart pounds faster at the drop of each threat against their lives. All it takes is one of them to turn their head, to look down, and it is over. Lena tries to not let this gruesome fact weigh too heavily on her heaving shoulders, but the reality of her situation is beginning to mix gravely with the adrenaline that spikes in her veins, and she is already starting to fear that she will not make it to the city.

"You see anything?" One officer suddenly demands from above. The voice is so loud, so close, that Lena falters and nearly slips in the mud. It is only a brief break in her focused trance, but it is enough to rattle her speechless. With the moment's hesitance, Tess has to place a hand on her shoulder to keep her moving forward again.

"Clear back here," Another one confirms. "How's it look up ahead?"

"No movement so far."

The voices soon fade away in Lena's ears again. A shaky breath escapes her quivering lips as she continues to focus on the back of Ellie's head. The little girl is drenched from head-to-toe in cold sleet, but there is no tremble in her figure. If she is scared, she is certainly not showing it and Lena automatically knows that she needs to be better herself. If a fourteen-year-old can make it through this then so can she.

Lena knows how to navigate unseen, after all. She is a master of it. This is not her first time ever evading officers. This is simply her first time evading them beyond the quarantine zone where there was more danger than just—

Oh, shit.

The shock of her next thought hits her like a tidal wave. Lena has not even had time to think about the Infected. For all she knows there could be one in the very building that she is currently dragging herself past.

"In here," Joel orders. Finally, they step into one of the last buildings that lines the muddy trench of destruction. To Lena's surprise, there is no actual floor to step on; instead, it falls down into another shadowy, watery pit. Once a basement, perhaps.

Regardless of what this place was in a past life, memories do nothing to prepare Lena for the icy coldness as she lowers herself down after Joel into the waist-deep water. A trembling yelp slips through her chattering teeth as she wades across the mangled basement towards what remains of an old rickety staircase. The wood creaks beneath her weight as she pulls herself up, forearms and shoulders burning, onto the next step. Then once she has gained a grip and a solid standing, she turns back around to help a struggling Ellie up.

Slowly, the four make their way to the top floor of the crumbling structure, using fallen pieces of the former building's caved in walls and roof to their advantage. Wooden beams ache and metallic pipes groan as fresh weight is put against them, the escapees trusting these damaged pieces to help them climb. Lena follows as best as she can in Joel's exact movements, seeing as he knows what he is doing, but the downpour above does not help in the slightest. Lena can barely see through the mixture of rainfall and sweat that drips into her eyes and smears her bangs across her forehead.

Somehow, though, Lena makes it to the top floor of the building in one piece. Her chest is pounding, and her lungs are burning, but she is given no time to rest nor regain her breath for in the next moment, upon barely placing her two feet firmly on solid ground, Joel is forcing her down into a crouch to hide from a patrol in the next building over.

"It's got to be those fucking Fireflies retaliating," One member of the patrol sneers.

"We'll be done with them soon enough," The other promises sinisterly. "Come on. Let's keep searching."

As soon as the patrol turns away, Joel is urging her to move again. Lena reaches out blindly behind her, securing her grip on Ellie before she runs, and the two of them follow the man across what remains of the top floor, and then down an opposing staircase on the far end of the destroyed room. With so many twists and turns in the darkness of the night, Lena no longer is even certain if she is in the same building that they first took cover in. For all she knows, with all this climbing, they could be in an entirely different area.

It is only once Joel leads them to a pair of shuttered doors that Lena recognizes they are no longer in what remains of a two-story house. Now, they are in the rubble of a collapsed garage.

"We can get through here," Joel announces as he reaches for the chain to pull the shutters up. Slowly, and piercingly loud, the garage door rises with a rustic screech and Lena quickly glances over her shoulder to make sure that no one above them nor around them can hear their movements.

"C'mon," Tess urges as she slips through the narrow gap at the bottom of the door, not waiting for it to be opened completely. The woman then pulls Ellie after her, and Lena hurriedly drops down to her knees to clamber after them. "Lena, help me with this."

Upon climbing through, Tess grabs the bottom of the shutters and, with all the strength she can muster, holds it up to keep it from clashing back down once Joel lets go of the chain. Lena quickly falls into place beside the other woman and grabs at the base of the garage door, feeling the metal edge dig into her palms as she pushes her heels into the mud and forces the divide upward, allowing Joel to slip through.

It is only once she feels Joel's body knock against her calf that she loosens her grip again, allowing her muscles to drop the heavy weight of the rusted door. "Easy now . . ." Tess cautions as the two women lower the shutters back down, working quietly to avoid any further commotion.

"There," Lena breathes in relief, once the shutter has been completely dropped back into the soft mud. As she finally turns away from the crumbling building behind her, her guarded attention then falls to an open yet terribly damaged street that stretches out before her. Abandoned military and civilian vehicles alike occupy both sides of the road, and partially standing buildings line the sides of the forgotten avenue, but neither of these massive obstacles are what catches Lena's attention. Rather it is the large military patrol at the opposite end of the street that is currently making its way right towards them. Sharp, ordering voices shout into the sky, and bright lights sweep outwards from the ends of rifles, searching for any sign of life to be shot down.

"Get down," Tess swiftly commands as she drops down behind a nearby vehicle left outside the garage. "Their lights can't reach this far. We need to move before they're on top of us."

"Where do we go?" Lena demands.

"That building." Joel points across the street, already one step ahead. "Use the tank for cover."

Lena nods her head feebly in understanding, feigning confidence, even as the rest of her body is screaming at her to turn back towards the garage. There is no way they are making it through this without being caught. No way at all. And yet there is no other option but to not get caught. So, she bites back her fear once more and moves. She moves because to stay is to give up, and Lena is not one to give up so easily.

This time, though, there is a difference in their crouched and quiet movements. With the unpredictability of the patrol bearing down on them, no one leads; all that the four are simply concerned with is making it across the street unnoticed.

"There's so many of them out here," Ellie whispers once they are behind the tank. "How are we supposed to get past them?"

"They ain't spotted us yet," Joel reassures her, and he is right. The patrol is still a good distance away, but they will not be for long. Without another word, they quickly push off the tank and continue onward.

Lena's legs are burning as she shuffles lowly across the street, using the remainder of abandoned vehicles to her advantage. She has never been forced to crouch so much, and she knows that her muscles are going to be hating her tomorrow. That is, if she even makes it to tomorrow. Yet so far, it seems, survival looks to be in Lena's favor. By some miracle, she makes it across the street and slips through a crack in the nearest brick wall of the building Joel had pointed out.

Once they are inside the building, it is another story entirely.

Outside on the street, the patrol has reached their building and far too many lights are now sweeping in their direction. More than once Joel drops to his knees to avoid being seen when he peers too long into an exposed area. "There's too many," He concludes apprehensively once they have reached the opposite end of the room. A small alley separates this building from the next one over, and all it takes to reach it is climbing through one window, sprinting across the open space, and then climbing into the next. But that is easier said than done when nearly a dozen armed officers linger just a few yards away, looking for any and all signs of unwanted movement. "We can't all go at once," Joel decides, already grabbing the window's ledge. He looks back to Lena briefly, holding her worried gaze with his own. "Wait for my signal, then get the girl and follow."

Lena's heart lurches fearfully in her chest at Joel's instruction, but he never gives her the moment to protest. What would she do, anyways? Turn around? An impossible option when more than her own life was at stake.

And so, using that vulnerability to his advantage, Lena can do no more than watch as Joel swings his large body through the wide window, drops into a crouch in the alley, covers the small distance, and then scales into the nearby window. Just like that. It happens so quickly, Lena doubts he even broke a sweat.

Yet she surely sweats enough for the both of them. Outside she can hear the voices of the officers growing louder, growing closer. Still in a crouch below the open window, she dares a peek upwards to scan her surroundings only to nearly fall back in alarm at the sight of a lone officer now making his way down the alley, right past their very window. Though the man's light scans briefly through their window, the three women are ducked low enough that it never reaches them.

As the officer reaches the end of the alley, Lena turns back to her niece. "Stay right on my heels," She orders under her breath.

"I will," Ellie squeaks. Her tiny hand clutches her knife and while Lena admires her courage she does not have the heart to dare tell her that such a weapon would never outlast the brute strength of a rifle.

Slowly, the officer then turns around and begins his trek back out of the alley to return to the rest of the patrol. Lena waits until he has passed entirely before hoisting herself up and over the window's slippery ledge. She can feel Joel's eyes on her from the shadows behind her as she moves, seemingly guarding her from a distance. Would he attempt to stop an officer if another were to suddenly come back down the alley while Lena's back was turned? Or, like before, would he only care about Tess's safety?

Lena grits her teeth together and shakes her head to rid the images of betrayal and death that dare to flash behind her narrowed eyes. She cannot focus on that right now.

Once her feet drop back onto familiar brick rubble on the other side of the window, she risks a glimpse towards the alley's entryway. When she sees that it is still empty, she quickly turns back and helps Ellie up and over. Lena holds her breath the entire time that they cross the narrow walkway and allows Ellie to climb through the next window first. Once they are in the next building over, Tess then clambers through the window and follows. Though the entire process likely takes less than three minutes, Lena feels that the stress of it all has aged her three decades.

Unsurprisingly, Joel barely acknowledges the tiny victory. "Through here," He quietly orders.

With a sharp huff, Lena makes her way across the empty ground floor and slips through a back exit. Moving onward there are no more buildings in front of them to hide in, but there is no need. With the patrol now securely behind them, the four hurry down the desolate street. Once more, thunder rumbles loudly overhead, masking the heavy pounding of the footsteps on the wet asphalt.

Though harsh in its form, Lena concedes that the storm is more of a blessing than it is a curse.

The street soon ends with a sharp dip in the earth and Lena comes to an immediate halt before she topples over the buckle and seemingly falls into the remains of the road. It is as if a bomb had struck the very center of the road and obliterated all in its wake, leaving a fresh concave as its lasting mark. At the bottom of the blasted pit is another drainpipe. A yellow streamer attached to the rounded entrance whips back and forth in the blowing wind, gleaming brightly against the lightning overhead, and draws four sets of eyes.

"Is that the way?" Joel questions.

Tess frowns. "Uh . . ." She trails off as she hesitantly looks around. "This area looks so different."

Lena puts her hands on her hips. "Have you never been through here?" She wonders.

"Not at this hour," Tess retorts. "And certainly not in weather like this."

Joel cautiously glances over his shoulder, back in the direction of the large patrol. "Well, we aren't goin' back that way, anyways," He declares. "Let's just see where this leads."

Lena spares her own look back from the way they came, and her eyes widen at the sight behind her. The quarantine zone's white stadium lights still burn brightly in the distance, but the wall itself is already so far. The four of them have covered so much ground in such a short time—or so it seems short—yet the infected city still looms far. The drainpipe is already seemingly leading in the direction that they need to go. They have nothing to lose in following it.

At least this time Lena does not have to plunge headfirst into the darkness that festers over this rough edge. Carefully, she lowers herself down into the shadows, into the very depths of the earth it feels like, using crumbling pieces of the road to help in her descent. The backs of her legs scrape against the harsh asphalt, but soon enough, she is back in familiar territory: an endless mud puddle.

Through the drainpipe, surprisingly, is a short trek that leads Lena and the others up and into another abandoned building. Four walls stand upright around them, but the roof has long since caved in. It appears to be the skeleton-like remains of a gym's locker room. "This looks right," Tess comments.

"Either way, at least we're out of the rain," Joel replies as he brushes a heavy hand across his own wet face, pushing his own hair back into a dripping, spiked mess.

"And the mud," Lena coughs in distaste. "Though I'm pretty sure I still have some stuck up my nose." She attempts to clean some of the muck that clearly clings to her cheeks as she follows Joel up a short staircase. The only door out of this newfound room is blocked by a large set of lockers, lodged tightly enough by mud and rubble that they cannot be moved again.

The shadows around them never falter, seemingly closing further upon them with each step that they take. "We can squeeze through here," Joel insists, motioning to a small separation in one of the walls. Back on her hands and knees, Lena pulls herself through piles sodden bricks. Though they are climbing back into the night, the air remains stiff within this collapsed structure.

When she finally clambers back to her feet in the next room over, Tess says behind her, "Yeah, this looks right—"

"Charlie Squad, report!"

"Shit! More of 'em!" Joel exclaims quietly, as Lena drops down behind the cover of a wooden crate, pulling Ellie alongside her. She barely has time to look around the new space before she sees the familiar beam of flashlights slipping into the dark room from overhead and knows that officers linger on the edges of the caved in rooftop. She cannot see how many there may be; for all she knows, it is the same large patrol from the street they just abandoned. If it is, they are gravely outnumbered.

The four of them are currently crouched in a partially collapsed hallway. One side of the room seems to be lined with more locker rooms, and the other leads into the crushed remains of an old weight room. No matter, all the doorways are blocked by rubble. Their only way out is down the straight stretch of exposed hallway, beneath the beams of light that threaten to catch them.

"Targets are still on the loose, sir!" An officer shouts.

But then, another man yells back, "Break off pursuit and report back to Sector Eleven."

"Acknowledged. Get to your vehicles!"

Suddenly, the bright flashes of light disappear. "I don't think they see us," Joel murmurs. As if to confirm that statement, Lena can hear the distant pounding of footsteps on the roof turn away and begin to walk in another direction. "Let's move," He urges. "Stay in the shadows."

Lena clings to the right side of the wall as she navigates her way down the crumbling hallway. Though there is solid ground beneath her, she fears that it may collapse back down into the basement below them. This pushes her to move faster, practically launching herself over a fallen set of lockers that blocks her path. Despite the metal that threatens to groan beneath her shifting weight, not a single sound is made by her, and she successfully makes it to the other end of the hallway unseen. This far away, she can no longer hear any signs of military life above them.

Now at the opposite end of the long building, Joel eyes one of the collapsed walls that seems to be the way out, but before he ultimately decides to move in that direction, he dips inside a small office-like room instead. Frowning, Lena follows in confusion, but she is also thankful that she can finally stand upright again and allow the air to circulate properly in her lungs for the first time in what seems like hours.

"Are we safe in here?" Ellie questions timidly.

"No. They're still around," Tess sternly tells her, before Lena even has a chance to answer. "Take a moment to catch your breath. Joel, see if there's anything we can use in here."

"Already on it, Boss," The man quips back as he digs through a nearby desk.

While Joel searches the rest of the room, Lena lowers herself down onto a torn loveseat pressed against the far side of the office. Ellie joins her a moment later, but neither of them speak for several minutes, each merely trying to catch their breath and try to sort the maddening train of thoughts that spirals in their rattled brains. Lena still cannot believe they have actually made it this far without having to face anymore run-ins with military personnel.

"How are you doing?" Lena asks her niece.

Ellie gulps down another breath and clasps her hands together over her knees. "I'm okay," She reassures. "Winded, but okay."

"Me too," Lena agrees. Instinctively she raises a hand to Ellie's shoulder and squeezes. It is the only comfort she knows how to give the girl. She cannot promise her anything else.

In the silence of the room, Lena tries not to think too deeply on the fact that, technically, she is surrounded by strangers. Even if one of them is related to her by blood she does not even know Ellie's middle name. If it were not for Marlene, then Ellie would not even know Lena's own last name. They know nothing of each other and yet they are expected to trek across an entire plague-filled country together, watching after one another as if they have been allies for their entire lives.

Aside from a few stray bullets and some gauze found at the bottom of a battered first-aid kit, Joel finds nothing more in the office worth gathering, and they reluctantly move on from the shelter. Lena's muscles ache in protest as she stands back up and guides Ellie in front of her once more. Over the young girl's head, Lena's eyes lock with Tess. Neither of the older women speak, but their thoughts are clear. This maze of decay must end eventually.

Lena climbs through the caved in wall across the empty hallway, her fingers curling tightly around pieces of brick as she pulls herself over a slight raise in the choppy ground. Again, with another short descent, it feels as if Lena is back down beneath the road. "Up through here," Joel says back to the group. "Through this pipe."

Another drainpipe awaits them, but there is no colored streamer to declare that this is the right path. Lena steps around a harsh curtain of rainwater that pours overhead, and as soon as she crouches down into the pipe, her nose is overwhelmed with the foul stench of long-abandoned sewage waste. She holds her breath, but the scent only grows stronger with each step until she cannot bide her lungs of anymore oxygen.

"This is disgusting!" Ellie gags.

"Try not to think about it," Lena advises, her own nose wrinkled with revulsion.

"Are we walking through actual shit right now?"

"Ellie."

Eventually, the pipe leads into a rectangular opening where the water goes back up to Lena's waist. Above them, the slated rungs of a sidewalk drain let feeble light from the distant lightning in. In front, less than twenty yards away, is the exit to the pipe. She can see the grated gate from this distance; Lena can only hope that all it takes is the release of a latch to free them from this wet space. They cannot afford to turn back at a potential dead end.

Joel leads them onward, stepping carefully through the murky water. Lena tries not to think about what could be lingering beneath the surface, even as she feels something dangerously solid knock against her right thigh. No one else seems to be bothered by anything beneath the water, but she presses on faster anyways. Less than ten yards away from the exit now.

Suddenly, the sharp screech of tires can be heard overhead.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Joel hisses in alarm. He freezes where he stands, but the water still sloshes around him. "Hang on, hang on." Lena jolts to a halt at the man's side, perhaps too close for comfort, and whips her head back up towards the ceiling where she can see two armored trucks rolling across the drain. Thankfully, neither of the vehicles stop on the remnants of the sidewalk. The officers, though literally right above their heads, cannot see them.

"Gather up!" A voice from within one of the vehicles hollers. "They're calling us back! We're returning to the wall!"

"You heard the man!" Another voice responds. "Load up! Let's go! Let's go!"

And with another loud rumble, the vehicles move on and once more the four escapees are left in silence. All that can be heard are their heaving pants of startled breath, and the ever-persistent trickle of rain as it falls and splatters.

"Holy shit," Lena sighs once she has begun to move again, following in Joel's shadow. The cold water pulls at her waist, trying to slow her down, but a newfound sense of urgency has spiked in her veins and she hurriedly crosses to the exit of the drainageway.

"Come on," Joel beckons as he approaches the grated gate. To Lena's relief, the latch opens, and the four of them spill out of the pipe.

Lena clambers up and out of the water, and shakes each foot, trying to dry herself off, but it is no use. It will not be until morning that she can attempt to find new clothing—if she is even given the opportunity to do so with these smugglers' agendas. She knows that absolutely nothing is guaranteed beyond this moment. Somewhere over her shoulder, echoing above the drainpipe, she can still hear the distant shouts of the officers, but they are moving further and further away with each passing second. They have abandoned the chase; they will not follow. Lena, Ellie, Tess, and Joel have made it through.

Barely a glimmer in the dark, the lights of the Boston quarantine zone relentlessly burn. Once Lena turns back around, it is likely she will never see the familiar wall again. It is not a sight that she necessarily cares to hold onto. There are too many ghosts within those borders. Too many demons that Lena could never escape.

But here—on the outside—even in the unknown of the fallen, apocalyptic world, there is still a freshness that lingers on the wind. Fear nor adrenaline has not burned away that feeling within the Ramsey woman yet. A new beginning looms on the horizon, even if Lena cannot quite see it yet.

After more than a decade, the quarantine zone is gone. Left behind.

Now, the infected city of Boston lies ahead.

~~~~~~~~~~

did i plan to write 9000+ words for this chapter? no. no, i did not. but i can blame that on the reason why it took so long to get this update posted. i had a lot of fun writing it, even though it killed me!! i love lena's character so much, and i hope you like her, too. anyways, since i lost many braincells while writing this hectic journey, i hope you appreciate it. i'm not very good at writing actiony/consistent moving chapters, but i hope this was enjoyable! was there anything specific that you liked?! i 'd love to hear y'alls thoughts!!

so, what are y'all thinking so far? i appreciate all votes and comments! thank you so much for reading! stay safe and well xx

—B.